


The Internet Is For ____

by some_good_clean_fun



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Girlfriends/No Wives, Animal Transformation, Cats, Friends to Lovers, Halloween vibes, M/M, Mystery, POV Danny in Chapter 1, POV Drew in Chapter 2, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27132181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/some_good_clean_fun/pseuds/some_good_clean_fun
Summary: It's Fall and three things are happening so far; Danny is recording a new song, he's tried to get closer to Drew, oh, and he's semi-adopted a new pet.
Relationships: Danny Gonzalez/Drew Gooden
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you just want to write things that fall on the cuter side of spooky.

The cat is very striking, with fur that from some angles looks sandy blond and from others looks brown and darker symmetrical stripes that accentuate how sleek it is. It has deep blue irises and thin slits for pupils as it stares Danny down, sitting atop his kitchen counter. It pads closer across the granite top and Danny is tempted to step forward and brush his fingers over its sleek, angular frame. He watches as the cat licks a front paw, brings it over its head, marveling at how it can be so cute and dignified at the same time. There’s only one problem here. Danny doesn’t own a cat.

“Hey, where did you come from?” Danny asks, speaking quietly so he doesn’t spook the creature. 

It nods its head to the open kitchen window as if it understood him and Danny tuts and moves past to examine how the window was opened. He’s pretty sure he didn’t leave it like that. Unfortunately, the window’s not in view of any of his security cameras so he can’t confirm that one way or the other. He closes and locks it.

He expects the cat will have jumped off the counter in fright at his hurried movement and be in hiding, but when he turns around, it’s sitting there, watchfully, an ear twitching. 

“Kinda rude to sneak into people’s homes uninvited,” Danny admonishes. The cat blinks at him quickly, starts licking yet another paw. “I wonder who you belong to,” Danny adds, talking more to himself than the cat. It doesn’t have a collar but it also doesn’t look like it lives in the wilds of Illinois. 

If he still lived in an apartment complex, it would be easy to ask around, but eight months ago Danny bought himself a three bedroom home and hasn’t done the best job of connecting with his neighbors. It isn’t that he’s anti-social or overwhelmingly introverted, or that all his neighbors are four decades too old for him, it’s just that he’s been busy and he tends to stick to his existing friendship groups than branch out. Plus, he’s spent a while helping Drew relocate and build _his_ friendship circles, so his own haven’t exactly been a priority. 

Danny casts his gaze around for Peanut. Surely she’s unhappy about his household interloper. He finds her resting on the couch, head on her paws, little belly rising and falling in slow precision. Guess not. 

He slides his phone from his pocket and takes pictures of the cat, turning it into an Instagram story and twitter thread for Greg to respond to. He’s in two minds. On the one hand, the cat so far hasn’t done any harm and it seems unkind to kick it to the curb. On the other hand, Danny doesn’t need or want a cat and has no idea how to find out who it belongs to. The cat could be trapped here, not knowing how to get back out from whence it came. Perhaps its unkinder still to keep it here.

Danny opens his front door wide, gestures into the dark, chill night. “Here you go, cat, thanks for coming, but now it’s time to go.”

The cat jumps off the counter and Danny thinks he’s found the answer. Then it hops onto the couch and snuggles against Peanut, who does nothing but open one eye and close it again, snuffling peacefully. 

“What the fuck.”

Danny’s tired. He’s had a long day of shooting at his parents’ house. He has another long day ahead of him tomorrow. The cat-astrophe can wait until tomorrow as far as he’s concerned. He goes to shower and get ready for bed, is tucked up by 11 pm. Peanut comes in and lies across his legs as he’s drifting off, and Danny turns to see the silhouette of the cat in the doorway. He refuses to freak out and promptly falls asleep.

*

The cat is nowhere to be found the next day and Danny searches _everywhere_. He’d chalk it up to a hallucination if he didn’t have the digital proof of hundreds of Gregs naming the cat and giving him helpful suggestions about what he could do. After an hour, he gives up. The cat’s gone. Vanished. And he has more filming to do. 

Danny arrives at his parents’ fifteen minutes late, so he sees Drew sitting outside in his car like a creeper. He’s wearing dark shades and has a gigantic cup of Starbucks, which is interesting, because Drew’s been easing back from the caffeine lately. 

Danny knocks on his window and Drew startles, was obviously dozing. Danny is both amused and empathetic. Drew climbs out of his car awkwardly, long limbs stretching out like tree roots. They half-hug, the way work colleagues do when watching their friends embrace – like they’re not sure it’s something they should be doing, but it might be rude not to. 

“Thanks for helping me out today, man. I needed someone else who’s used to camera work and you know me, I always go for the best.”

“Not a problem,” Drew responds. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Danny re-introduces Drew to his mom and dad. Drew is adorably uncomfortable and struggling to hide it. Drew’s met them once or twice before, but not for extended periods. They get set up with drinks and snacks and head on down to the basement, Danny’s base of operations for the shoot. 

Danny shows Drew his storyboard, runs through his proposed schedule. They’re going to be filming in and around his parents’ backyard and at parklands nearby. It’s just elaborate enough that Danny needs a second set of hands and he knows Drew takes direction well, will offer solutions to problems. He enjoys working with Drew because he’s happy to follow whatever Danny’s proposing, but he’s also not afraid to make suggestions. 

Music videos are always more difficult to accomplish than regular videos, but that’s what Danny likes about them; the challenge, the extra layer of creativity and ingenuity. Something he thinks a lot of people don’t realize about being a professional YouTuber is how it can be like any other job – aspects of it are a chore. While it’s far and away his favorite job so far, there are still times when it gets monotonous, or tedious, or like something he just has to trudge through in order to get to something better. So when he’s able to flex his creative muscles, to use his skills for similar yet different means, he loves it. 

Drew yawns and Danny nudges into his side. “Not keeping you up, I trust?”

“Sorry. Big night. I had to make my way home on foot.”

Danny raises his eyebrows a few times. “Yeah?”

“Not because of anything like that.”

Drew doesn’t answer any more of Danny’s questions, so Danny drops the subject and they get to filming. Like he predicted, they work seamlessly together, working through the troubles that arise with audio syncing and dying camera batteries. 

By the end of the day, Danny has more than enough footage and takes to cut into the music video he envisioned. He invites Drew to stay for dinner, but he declines, citing an abundance of Hello Fresh meals to be getting on with. Danny eats with his parents again, not making it home until well past 10 pm. As he opens his door, he half-expects to see the cat waiting for him on the kitchen counter again, but it isn’t and he promises himself he doesn’t feel disappointed. 

*

The next week involves a lot of editing and creation of visual effects, not to mention marketing, filming a short video for his second channel, video chatting with Kurtis, playing basketball with Tim, texting Drew, and listening to a David Sedaris audiobook. This is one of those weeks where Danny feels guilty if he isn’t working. The kind of twisted mental space that tells him he has to be doing something to further his career, otherwise he’s an imposter. It sucks, because he’s put in a solid eight to ten hours for five days straight and he should be allowed to have a weekend, but because it’s Thursday he still feels like he should be typing up notes for his next video, or filming a brand-deal segment, or putting the finishing touches on his music video. He has an antsy energy that he can’t get rid of with positive self-talk. 

It’s dark out, but Danny gets Peanut’s leash and poop scoop packets organized as well as his phone and keys. She gazes up at him adoringly as he helps her step into her harness and they set off together, walking a slightly different route than usual so Danny can feel like he’s meeting his subconscious’ need for stimulation. 

It’s a clear, chill night. There’s no wind to speak of, not a sign of rain on the horizon. If he was pressed, he’d say that Fall is his favorite season, not least because he’s a sucker for Halloween. There’s something about the changing colors of the leaves, the sweet scent of decaying foliage on the dirt; - it reminds him that he’s nothing but a small, Earthbound creature when it really comes down to it, just one step in an ever-repeating cycle, seemingly insignificant yet still important. When he lived in England, Fall had felt like the only redeemable outcome of having his life uprooted. His family has a tradition of going apple-picking and roaming through corn field mazes and they’ve even gone to a pumpkin patch once or twice – stomping down the sidewalk wrapped up in his mental meanderings, Danny thinks he might suggest they go again soon. 

Danny enjoys walking Peanut, especially when he ventures out of his comfort zone, roaming out of his usual self-prescribed boundaries and seeing more of the neighborhood. He used to like doing the same thing in LA, discovering off the beaten track, and only a couple of times got himself lost. Peanut is happy to go wherever Danny leads her. She only occasionally pushes ahead and dictates the way, preferring to stay in step with him. She bounds about in a pile of raked up leaves, pees against a streetlight. She poops on someone’s lawn and Danny dutifully picks it up. 

After twenty minutes, Danny heads back in the direction of home. About 500 yards away, Peanut suddenly darts to the side, yanking Danny along with her. She pulls him to the side of a dumpster, begins to bark with the most ferocity he’s ever seen. In answer, there’s a small, plaintive meow. Danny leans over the shortest edge of the dumpster lip with his phone flashlight and spies two glowing eyes. 

It’s the cat. Not simply ‘a’ cat, but the one who invaded his home a week before. It’s covered in grime and goop and Danny hoists himself up so he can bend down into the dumpster and pick the cat up, hoping it doesn’t try to defend itself by tooth and claw. On the contrary, the cat is meek and docile as Danny lifts it from its prison, carries it against his chest. It’s sticky and encrusted with dirt. Danny feels bad for it. Peanut jumps up on Danny’s leg to look at the cat, and he thinks for a second perhaps she will attack, but instead she thumps back down and waits for Danny to pick up her lead. 

Back at his home he sets the cat down on the floor and watches as Peanut sniffs it, boops it on the nose, and pads over to her favorite resting spot under the living room window. The cat gazes up at Danny with its dark blue eyes, pupils wider than Danny’s yet seen them, and gives another short, sharp meow. It gazes at its dirty paws, then back up at Danny as if to say, ‘I can’t clean this alone.’

The cat then walks into Danny’s bathroom, trusting Danny will follow it, like he does, and stares meaningfully at the tub. 

“Cats don’t like baths,” Danny says to the cat. The cat glares. Not malevolent so much as challenging. That’s how it feels, anyway. “Okay, then, but if you scratch me, I’m dumping you outside soaking wet.”

Danny runs a shallow bath, prepares two towels. He looks at the instructions on his dog shampoo and finds it’s acceptable for cats. He rolls up his sleeves and picks the cat up carefully, expecting the cat to have changed its mind once it physically encounters water. The cat is still until Danny places it paw first into the water, at which point it walks around a few times swishing its tail. Danny tentatively scoops up some water and drizzles it over the stickiest part on the cats back. The cat sits obediently as he adds shampoo and creates a lather.

The rest of the bath goes similarly smoothly. Danny rubs at the cat’s fur until it’s clean and the water has gone dark and muddy. 

“You’re being suspiciously well-behaved,” Danny says. 

The cat flicks some water up at him with its tail, turns around and uses a wet paw to bat at his face. 

“You want to come out and dry off?” Danny asks without waiting for an answer. 

He scoops the cat up in one of his old towels, rubs like he does for Peanut. The cat meows once, then frees itself from Danny’s grip and lands gracefully on the tiled floor. It walks into the living room like it owns the house, settles itself on Danny’s rug and folds into a loaf shape in front of his gas heater. 

“Peanut, your new friend is weird,” Danny says. The cat twitches an ear. 

In the morning, the cat has once again disappeared, after having rejected Danny’s attempts to feed it some of Peanut’s food. Danny’s mind boggles at how it could escape so easily. All of his windows and doors are closed and locked, he’s certain of it. But he’s planning on releasing his new music and video that day, so after exploring for half an hour, he pushes it out of his mind.

*

After another visit from the cat, Danny calls Laura and tells her about the weirdness. He gazes at the cat as it sits on his couch, preening itself. It’s sitting like the sphinx, riddles at the ready. It came into Danny’s house with some white powder on the top of its paws, but it’s cleaned it off now and it sits, statesman-like.

“You know what this sounds like to me?” Laura asks. “It sounds like you would never let me have a cat when we lived together and now you’ve gone and adopted one.”

“You’re allergic,” Danny reasons. “I wasn’t, like, cruelly depriving you of a cuddly friend.”

“Felt like it. I could’ve taken antihistamines.”

“Come over and meet the cat, then. Take him off my hands, if you really want.”

“Fine. I will.”

Laura arrives a half hour later with non-dairy ice cream and a case of limoncello La Croix. Danny takes her coat and hangs it on the hook, then gets them both spoons. The cat stays on the couch, staring at Laura as she sits close by and coos. 

“He’s even cuter in person,” Laura says. “Wait, how do you know he’s a he?”

“I don’t, for sure. But he has big paws and an aquiline nose and he’s slim but big-ish, so I’m guessing it’s a boy cat. You think it’s a girl?”

“No, I agree with you,” Laura says, holding her loosely closed fist out so the cat can sniff it. 

The cat sniffs tentatively, then bats its head against her hand. Laura starts to scritch its head and it moves into the touch; graceful, calculated movements that means it gets maximum petting. It has to be the least timid cat Danny’s ever encountered. Danny sits next to Laura and watches, wondering if he should have attempted to pet the cat before now. Feels weird that he bathed it but hasn’t offered it any affection, given how obviously it’s lapping up Laura’s attention. 

“So you think he has an escape route?” Laura says as they crack open their cans and eat spoonfuls of Ben and Jerrys. 

“He must do. He’s nowhere to be found in the morning, turns up at night. He was on my doorstep this evening, scratched at the door and then trotted in like he owns the place.”

“You should get a contractor in, find out if you have an access point to the sub-flooring or something. It could be a security risk.”

“I know. What do you think I should do about the cat?”

“Give him a name. Buy him some toys.”

“I don’t wanna keep the cat, Laura. I don’t need a cat. I have Peanut.”

“I don’t think you have a choice in the matter. The cat’s obviously decided to keep you.”

The cat looks up at that, pads over Laura’s lap to settle between her and Danny, its tail curling around Laura’s leg and its head resting on Danny’s knee as it peers up at him. It seems to be saying, ‘Gimme a pat. You know you want to.’ Danny acquiesces, softly stroking his pointer and middle finger over the M on the cat’s head, up between its ears. The cat purrs, a deep rumble that vibrates through Danny’s skin. 

“Tell me about your week,” Danny says, settling back with his hand gently stroking through the cat’s soft fur. 

“I fell asleep during a lecture,” Laura replies, the light in her eyes telling Danny she’s ready to launch into a story full of adventures, new learning experiences, and mishaps. “You wanna know the worst part? I discovered afterward I wasn’t even in the right lecture hall. I fell asleep during some English literature lecture rather than Research Methods.”

“That explains it! You couldn’t help but snooze to the Shakespearean tone of it all. ‘Doth thee use Wikipedia as thine prime evidentiary source? Nay, ‘tis a foolish errand to read that which may be writ by any and all whom so wish to maketh their mark on the world. Get thee to a library, post haste and dwell among the musty pages of scholars who have prov’d their knowledge henceforth!’.”

“Oh, man, I would totally have stayed awake for that, that’s amazing.” Laura giggles. “Luckily, they were taping Research Methods and attendance isn’t part of my grade, but I felt pretty stupid when an eighteen year old kid poked me in the shoulder and said it was time to leave.”

“Made worse when you asked to look at their notes and they were about a completely different subject.”

“Exactly.” 

They chat for another couple of hours. Laura starts to yawn, so Danny offers for her to stay the night but she decides to leave. In that moment, Danny realizes how lonely he’s been. He hadn’t intentionally cut himself off from his friends, but he does that sometimes, when work takes over his life. He’s been so focused on writing, filming, and editing lately that apart from brief pre-arranged appointments with his friends, he hasn’t given himself time to engage. He’s good with having a small close-knit friendship group – it’s something he’s chosen rather than something that was forced upon him – but when he isolates himself even from those who know him best he knows he spirals into unhealthy behaviors. Like semi-adopting stray random cats and doomscrolling twitter for four hours straight, lying to himself that it’s in the pursuit of video topics.

The cat pads to the door with Laura and for a second, Danny thinks it’s going to follow her out, but instead it stands next to Danny at the doorway and watches as Laura drives off. Danny raises an eyebrow at the cat and gets ready for bed, checking for a ‘home safe’ text from Laura before allowing himself to fall asleep. The cat does not jump up onto the bed, but it lies by Danny’s night-stand, in line with Peanut. 

“Goodnight, Peanut, goodnight cat,” Danny says into the darkness. Peanut doesn’t respond in any way, but the cat meows in reply.

*

His yellow shirt is missing. He actually has two of them, identical in almost every way that no one who isn’t him would realize, but the one he wanted to wear is nowhere to be found. He turns his house upside-down looking for it. He rummages in his laundry, beneath couch cushions, underneath his bed, in his drawers, in all three of the house’s closets, even the one he only uses for camera and lighting equipment. In a fit of craziness, he checks his fridge, freezer and dishwasher. But it’s absolutely nowhere to be found. Did the cat steal his shirt? If so, how? Is someone else getting into his house and stealing the cat and his clothing during the early hours of the morning? If so, how?!?

Danny wears the yellow shirt’s twin, the one that has a ketchup stain on the hem and slightly worn sleeves, and posts his usual ‘I wear a yellow shirt today’ Instagram story, thinking about turning it into a missing clothing item poster, but also not wanting to seem bonkers when there’s any sort of truth to the suggestion. Greg can only think he’s crazy when he’s absolutely sane. 

In an effort to distract himself and make good on his promise to connect more with his friends, Danny texts Drew to ask if he wants to come over, not to collab, simply to hang out, and sets about putting his place back to rights. 

When Drew arrives he brings home made soft pretzels and heads straight to the fridge to collect two La Croixs. 

“Make yourself at home,” Danny says with a grin, endeared by how different Drew is when he’s comfortable in an environment. 

“I will, thanks,” Drew says, handing Danny one of the cans. 

“How’ve you been? You haven’t uploaded for a hot minute.”

“Didn’t wanna steal away from your limelight,” Drew says. “Seems cruel to knock your latest song out of the top 5 in trending.”

“I know, I can’t believe it. This track has done the best of any I’ve released before. It’s had more streams and downloads than my EP.”

“You deserve it, man. You put a lot of work into it and it’s great.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Danny says. “I wouldn’t have gotten half the shots necessary if I was working alone.”

“Awww,” Drew replies, tearing off part of one of the pretzels he brought. “Your acknowledgment brings such warmth to my heart.”

“Do you ever just take compliments the way they’re intended?”

“Not if I can help it.”

“I’ll find a way to make you. Take this pretzel, for example. It’s freaking delicious and I know you made it yourself because I watched your Instagram story about it yesterday.”

Drew shrugs. “You have your music, I have my teaching myself how to cook without death by poison.”

“You’re succeeding. I love this. Feel free to bring me more food any time.”

Drew blushes. Danny has only seen him blush a couple times before, never having been the cause of it. It’s an entrancing sight. His lips press together, deeper red than usual. Pink blotches his neck and the hollows of his cheeks. His eyes go a little glassy and furtive. Danny wonders how else he could make Drew blush. What would he need to say, or do?

“You wanna watch something?” Danny asks after a prolonged beat of silence. “You haven’t seen _Oh, Hello!_ yet, have you?”

“Yeah, that sounds fine,” Drew says. “Not sure how I’m gonna feel about it, though. I watched a season of _Big Mouth_ and felt like a pervert.”

“Opposite end of the age spectrum,” Danny replies. “You can feel perverse for other things.”

“Thanks for your permission.”

Danny calibrates his face until he’s looking at Drew with a completely dead-pan expression. He fakes a blink for effect. “It’s more like recognition.”

“Oh, haha, shut the fuck up.”

It’s late when Drew asks the time. They’ve watched three Netflix comedy specials and ordered and eaten a fuckton of pizza, but when he realizes it’s 8:50 pm, he jumps like a cat on a hot tin roof. 

“I gotta go,” Drew says, gathering up his wallet and keys. 

“You sure you don’t wanna watch one more –”

“I got. To go,” Drew says, echoing one of their past videos while genuinely running to the door. “Thanks for the company. See you again soon I hope.”

And like that he’s running out into the night, gunning his car engine, and speeding down the street. Danny stands on his porch and stares after the car, disappointed. He’d had half-formed notions of introducing Drew to the cat and getting his opinion on what he should do. Drew likes cats, and even though they’re friends and will spend time together regardless, Danny can’t help but consider what it would be like to sweeten the deal. When Drew first moved to Chicago, Danny had allowed himself the fantasy that it had been for him, their friendship, but they spend about as much time together in person as they did when Drew lived in Florida.

“Guess it’s just us, girl,” Danny says over his shoulder to Peanut, who’s playing with a chew-toy in front of the heater. 

Five seconds later the cat comes wandering up Danny’s front path and into his house. 

*

He hires a builder inspector who finds nothing wrong with his property, which on one hand is reassuring, on the other hand is mystifying, and on the third, squishy-boned hand is terrifying. Danny has never been one to believe in the supernatural. He’s what he’d like to think of as healthily sceptical, if not outright disbelieving, and if there aren’t any open spaces the cat can squeeze through in order to have vanished from his house, then the other options are that the cat can open locked doors and windows, it has the ability to become invisible, or it can teleport. Danny has befriended a magical cat. This is not a euphemism.

Danny is concerned, but he also can’t let himself obsess over it. He’s been down that route before, concentrating on small details and missing the bigger picture, so he draws up a work schedule. If his life is going to have any kind of balance, he’s the one who’s going to have to set it up. He has three video ideas written out in detail, one for his second channel so it won’t take that long. But he’s going to ensure he gives himself actual breaks this time, and will refuse to feel unproductive when he’s socializing and having downtime. 

That night, he’s rewatching _Rogue One_ when there’s a scratching sound at his door. The cat meows a greeting up at him as it trots into the house, sitting upon the couch facing the TV. Danny goes into the kitchen to make himself some snacks. The cat meows at him again. 

“Are you hungry too? I haven’t purchased any cat food yet. All I have is human-tuna.”

Danny makes up a dip platter of trail mix, vegetable sticks, crackers and hommus. On a separate small plate he mounds half a can of tuna. There’s every chance he’s not going to eat the cut carrot, or that the cat will reject the tuna, but it’s not like he’s penny-pinching at the moment. It’s an acceptable loss. 

Danny settles back on the couch with the food. The cat sniffs the tuna, then takes a tentative bite. Danny makes a hommus sandwich with two crackers. The cat looks up at Danny, then at the TV, then at Danny again. It’s highly likely this is a form of pareidolia, him ascribing meaning to the cat’s actions when there is none, but he takes it to mean he should restart the movie. He snuggles back against the cushions and presses play, eating when the mood takes him and petting the cat when the food’s gone. The cat rolls over onto its side, still facing the TV, and begins to purr, a deep sound that reverberates loudly. 

When he goes to bed, Danny has Peanut lying across his legs and the cat curled up tucked against his side. 

*

Life continues on. Since his last music video he’s made over two hundred thousand new subscribers and though he’d like to lie and say he doesn’t feel the pressure over that, he definitely does. Danny keeps to his schedule admirably, only breaking out of it when his editing goes awry and he has to make up for half a day’s work not rendering correctly and corrupting his video files. Every time this happens he promises he’ll create consistent back-ups in the future, and every time he fails to do so. 

When he’s finally finished and has uploaded his video unlisted for his sponsor to check out, Danny starts planning what could generously be termed a dinner party, but realistically be termed an attempt at a dinner party. Most of the time, Danny considers himself a fairly responsible adult. He’s self-employed, he owns his house, he pays his bills on time, he’s negotiated brand deals and done his taxes. He is competent, when it comes to managing his affairs. But sometimes, in moments like these, he feels sadly lacking in the kinds of skills he thinks grown-ups should have when they’re nearer to thirty than their teenage years. He has never held a party. He’s been invited to many, he’s helped his brother organize them, but he’s never been in charge of one himself. Most of the steps seem like common sense, but he still has that anxious little voice at the back of his brain telling him he’s going to fuck up. 

Firstly, he writes up a guest list. He figures seven is a good number, will end up with eight dining, including himself. Next, he writes out what he knows about food sensitivities and creates a reminder to ask his proposed guests about them when he sends out his invitations. He writes up a draft menu for three courses. He orders cider, beer and wine, because even though it’s customary for guests to bring a bottle, he figures it’s better to be prepared. And then he begins to call around. 

Danny’s okay with talking on the telephone, unlike a lot of fellow millennials, because he likes how easy it is to distinguish tone. He isn’t surprised that a couple of his friends let his calls go through to voicemail, because they always do. He waits a few minutes for them to call him back. 

All except one person he calls accepts his invitation. The one who doesn’t is Drew.

“I’m sorry, Danny, I have an early morning.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s uh… an unavoidable appointment.”

“You sure you can’t come for a little while? Duck out after an hour or so?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Okay, well, you know where I live, if you change your mind. Remember, Friday, 7:30.” 

“If there’s any chance I can make it, I will, but I don’t wanna give you any promises.”

Danny doesn’t want to admit to himself that the sense of rejection stings, so he doesn’t. Drew sounded genuinely sorry that he couldn’t come and anyway, there would be other opportunities for them to spend time together. He doesn’t allow himself to consider rescheduling for another night; Drew was the sixth person he contacted, it would be a dick move to call the first five people back with a revised date just because he wants to accommodate one friend. And yet.

The cat doesn’t appear that night. Despondency sets in. He could’ve done with some fuzz therapy. He plays with Peanut, sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolling a ball and praising her when she drops it into his lap. She lies on him for a few minutes when he sits on the couch, but she isn’t the kind of dog who wants to be petted for longer than five minutes. She’ll follow him from room to room and rest on him for a moment, but he can’t get away with half an hour of scratching and strokes like he can with the cat. 

*

Danny wakes up on Friday to find five dead cockroaches on his doorstep. They might be a warning. Of what, Danny hesitates to say. But they’re certainly ominous. He peers out into his neighborhood, but everything looks normal. He says a couple of apologetic words to the lifeless insects as he places them in the trash. He wouldn’t say he’s a cockroach’s biggest fan, but their deaths looked brutal.

He spends an hour or so tidying up his place. He’s not a slob, but he isn’t a neat-freak either. He’s hired a cleaner who keeps his bathrooms and kitchen clean and he has a Roomba for his carpeted areas. Still, though, he has a couple of areas that seem to gather clutter like magnetic attraction, and all he really has to do is sort them and put them where they belong. It’s the kind of work he never minds while he’s doing it, but he procrastinates and puts it off until it’s absolutely necessary. He listens to Amy Poehler’s _Yes Please_ as he clears away, laughing at the behind the Saturday Night Live scenes tales and appreciating the advice. 

Danny has set multiple dishes cooking, has showered, shaved and dressed up by the time his guests begin arriving. So far, everything is going well. He hasn’t burned his house down, flooded his upstairs, or set off any seismic activity. 

He’s nervous, but he’s not scared. If things don’t go smoothly, his friends will jump in to ease his concerns and help him. The worst that will happen is that they’ll razz him for the foreseeable future.

“Hey , thanks for coming,” Danny greets Laura, Tim and David, who have all arrived together. He takes their coats and places them on his bed. He has a coat rack but it only holds two coats.

Laura and Tim immediately start offering to help cook, while David pours everyone drinks. 

The other guests come shortly after and they occupy themselves eating the appetizers while Danny puts the finishing touches on dinner. 

It’s an enjoyable affair, filled with laughter. He gets many compliments on his cooking and Danny sends a silent thank you to Hello Fresh and their recipe cards. 

Dessert is almost over when there’s a tell-tale scratching sound at Danny’s front door and Peanut gives a short, sharp bark. Danny excuses himself from his dining table and opens the door, not at all surprised to see the cat there. The cat walks into the living room with its tail held high, a little curve at the end emulating a question mark. Peanut gives the cat a sniff and the cat in return gives her a lick. Danny leaves them to it and returns to his guests. 

After a short while, the cat comes trotting into the dining room to a chorus of cooing and praise.

“Is this the infamous cat?” Tim asks, bending down to pet it. 

“Uh, yeah,” Danny says, feeling a little awkward for reasons he can’t explain. “Isn’t he neat?”

“He’s beautiful,” Jen exclaims, crouching down beside him. The cat gives her a cautious sniff and allows a pat. 

“What have you decided to name him?” Matt asks.

“I haven’t.”

“But you’ve all but adopted him,” Jen points out. 

“I don’t think about it like that. I think about us as buddies. He comes and hangs out when he wants, you know?”

“Buddies have names.”

“Be that as it may, I haven’t come up with any good monikers,” Danny says, trying and failing not to sound annoyed.

The cat leaps into the air, onto Danny’s lap, presses one of its paws into his arm to ask for a pet. 

“This is the cutest shit I’ve ever seen,” David says, snapping a picture. 

“Fluffikins the third,” Tim suggests.

“There hasn’t been a first and second,” Danny dismisses, scratching between the cat’s ears as it starts to purr. 

“Tabitha?”

“He’s a boy.”

“Kitten McWhiskers.”

“No.”

“Tomathy!”

“Fuck no.”

“Greg.”

“Guys, if I feel like the cat needs a name, I will ask for your kind suggestions then. Thanks, anyway.”

The cat settles into a curl on Danny’s lap, closing its eyes and purring deeper. In that moment it definitely feels like the cat has adopted him, even if it’s unofficial. Danny searches his soul on the matter. Does he mind? Not really. But he can’t shake the idea that something’s hinky. Sure is nice to feel the reverberation of the cat’s purr, though. To know with one slow blink that he has made another creature content. He spends the next hour and a half like that, not stuck so much as consensually detained. 

Eventually, his guests leave, except Tim, who stays behind to help clean up. The cat looks annoyed at being deposited on Danny’s couch, but as tempting as it would be to watch Tim stack the dishwasher and rinse pots and pans, Danny knows he holds a certain responsibility.

“It went well, don’t you think?” Danny asks, knowing that Tim will hear every underlying anxiety.

“I had a great time, especially over your blushing embarrassment at gaining a new pet against your will.”

Danny scrubs vigorously at the one pot that ended up with burned food at the bottom. “I’m not really embarrassed? It’s hard to explain. I just feel like there’s something that’s not adding up.”

“Speaking of not adding up, didn’t you say you were inviting seven guests so we’d have an even number?”

“Yeah, unfortunately Drew couldn’t come.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Your tone? Like you’re trying to psycho-analyze me and I don’t know why.”

“Come on, Danny,” Tim says, giving him a pointed look.

“What?”

“How long have we known each other?”

“You want it down to the hour, or the minute?”

“The second.”

“Fuck, uh, lemme do some high level calculation here. Multiply by twenty-four, ten to the power of seven. About an imperial for-fucking-ever?”

Tim laughs. “Yeah, so I know when you’re lovesick,” he says, tone softening.

Danny doesn’t even try to deny it. There would be no point. Tim has known about every single one of Danny’s crushes, a couple even before he did. There is no hiding from Tim, who knows him as well as his siblings do, and is more inclined to talk to him about pesky things like emotions.

“It’s okay,” Danny says, and it’s true, for a given value of okay. “Drew’s my friend and that’s all I ever really needed, so --”

“So you asked him out and he rejected you? Sorry,” Tim says, patting Danny on the back.

“No. Nothing like that.”

“You tried to kiss him and he pushed you away?”

“Not that either.”

“He told you all about his new significant other?”

“No. I just. I don’t think he likes me the way I like him. Why is it always an interrogation with you?”

Tim playfully smacks Danny on the back of the head, his hand skimming through Danny’s hair rather than connecting with any force. “You’ve made absolutely no moves, have you? This is Laura all over again.”

“Laura’s engaged.”

“She wasn’t when we were seventeen.” Tim sets the baking dish he was drying one-handed in the kitchen cabinet it belongs. He then swivels, leans against the nearest counter, sighs deeply, theatrically crossing his arms. “Danny, Danny, Danny, you deserve to get the things you want, not just the things you need.”

“I’m going to kindly remind you that Drew is a person.”

“I’m clearly talking about a relationship, you dick.”

“And if he doesn’t want what I want? Everything will be weird and awkward and high-key horrible. I’m talking C6, baby.” Danny falsetto sings his best approximation of the note, to Tim’s wincing response.

“Then at least you’ll have tried and you’ll know. It’ll give you some closure. But all this pussy-footing around helps no-one.”

“Hey, that’s a banned pejorative in this household,” Danny says, absently. “You think I should take the risk.” It’s a statement, not a question. “You think it’s worth it.”

“I really do.”

They chat some more as they clear things away. It’s late by the time Tim leaves, late enough that Danny doesn’t bother with pajamas, just slips off his clothes and climbs into bed in his boxer briefs. He has an electric blanket, he’ll be plenty warm. Peanut’s already on his bed, curled up at the foot, snoring, but the cat’s sitting on the floor, meticulously cleaning its paws. Danny taps his comforter over his belly, trying to lure the cat the way he’s seen others do. There’s a dull thump and the cat comes to lie on his abdomen, its eyes shining fluorescent in the dark. 

“You can stay in the morning, you know,” Danny says. “I think we’re past the point where I’ll attempt to push you out. You’ve made a home here and I’m not mad about it.”

The cat is unfortunately gone in the morning.

*

Drew texts to ask if he can come over at 11 am and arrives around lunch time, the ingredients for Hello Fresh burgers in tow. Danny’s pulse starts a steady but noticeable beat the second he receives Drew’s text and it feels like every minute the tempo increases. It doesn’t help there there’s a nervous energy around Drew either, that he clearly glances at Danny side-long when he thinks Danny won’t be able to see.

“How did your dinner party go?” Drew asks while shredding the lettuce with a practised ease that Danny both envies and admires.

“It was good, but there was a distinct lack of fatalistic nihilism,” Danny replies, grilling the burgers on his stovetop griddle.

“Oh right, you were putting on your cookie-cutter Pollyanna facade?”

“I think I'm more of an existentialist with a mostly hopeful outlook. I’m only cynical like ten percent of the time. Thirteen at the most.”

“I know you won't believe me, but I think I am too. My moral compass won't allow me to presume nothing matters.”

“I believe you,” Danny says, because it sounded like Drew really meant it. “I was riffing.”

“Yeah, I know, I just thought that _you_ should know that I only pretend not to care because sometimes I care a little too much.”

“You think there is such a thing? I don't know. As I get older sometimes I wish I'd cared more when I was younger.” 

Drew snorts out a huff of a laugh. “Because you're positively ancient now.”

“My point is, maybe you shouldn't self-censor. Embrace your emotional vulnerability.”

“I will when you will.”

Danny flips the burgers, figures they have another couple of minutes. “Aw, fuck. Guess we're both doomed.”

“Like our friendship,” Drew says, laying out the cheese and vegetables on the hamburger buns. “Not it being doomed. I mean, I care about that a lot. I wouldn’t say knowing you were here was the only deciding factor in me moving to Chicago, but it didn’t hinder the decision in any way. I _wanted_ to come to your party, last night.”

Danny swallows thickly, caught between the gratification that Drew really does like being with him, and the disappointment that it’s relegated to friendship and friendship alone. This is the answer to a question he hasn’t had the courage to ask. And like he told Tim, it’s okay, it’s fine, he will be okay and fine in equal measure. But it doesn’t stop it from hurting. The potential of what he feels he could have with Drew still lingers at the back of his mind. He wonders what it would be like to kiss Drew so thoroughly the only thing he can remember is Danny’s name. He can’t help but picture a future where they’re always by each other’s sides. 

He schools his face into a smile. “I would’ve appointed you my sous chef and had you doing all the work, so even if it wasn’t a choice, it was a wise decision.”

They sit down on the couch and eat their burgers, though immediately afterwards Danny regrets eating two. His eyes had thought he could manage them both, especially because they weren’t full-size. But they also weren’t slider-size and it seems like his stomach is protesting this vehemently. Drew, on the other hand, has demolished them both with little complaint, and not for the first time Danny wonders how he can maintain his skinny physique while being capable of eating so much. 

“Is it possible you’re trying to kill me with kindness?” Danny asks, groaning and rubbing his stomach. 

Drew grins at him, blue eyes glinting with mischief. “Not before you give me your channels and all your subscribers. Oh darn, I’ve foiled my own evil plan.”

“I know there’s that whole we’re the same person thing, but we don’t actually look anything alike. Everyone would know.”

“Wouldn’t you like to believe it, but we’re completely interchangeable.”

Danny reaches over and strokes his finger down Drew’s nose. “This is different, for starters,” he says. He then brushes his fingers through Drew’s hair. “This too.” He slides his thumb over Drew’s cheekbone. “I don’t have this.”

Drew gazes at him, wide-eyed and Danny draws his hand back. They’ve gotten up close in the name of comedy before, but perhaps this is crossing a line. 

Drew leans over, pats Danny’s arm. “You didn’t have to stop,” he says. Then his Adam’s apple bobs and he brings his hand back like he’s scorched himself. “But it’s probably best that you did. I’m gonna go home.”

The mixed signals are so well combined they’ve become their own cocktail. Danny is so confused. He sees Drew to the door and lets him go, wondering what the hell is going on.


	2. Chapter 2

The wind is whip-chill and strong. He has to keep walking quickly or he thinks he’ll be blown away, back toward where he came from. He wishes he’d parked nearer but he’s always paranoid his car will be discovered and he doesn’t want to be revealed as the stalker he most definitely is. His nose is cold and streaming. His eyes are gritty and sore. The tips of his ears are especially cold and he’d stop and curl to the ground, shelter them with his arms if he wasn’t on a mission. 

It’s been another challenging day, doing everything he can to track down Mademoiselle Lafayette. He’d been so sure this time he’d gotten close, that Jarvis had successfully discovered the address attached to her real IP, but the building had been long-abandoned. Another dead end in nearly a month full of them. 

Time is running out. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he has no choice. Pretty soon this will be his whole life, living as a small being that can get tossed about by the wind, who will travel what should be a ten minute walk in thirty minutes, who won’t be able to talk to anyone, ever again. And all because of what? One joke video about a coven of witches on TikTok. Something he created on the spur of the moment because he needed to squeeze another video in to meet his contractual obligations for his brand deal with ExpressVPN.

Drew turns the corner and finally sees Danny’s house. He’d sigh if he could, in relief and comfort, but all that comes out is an abrasive wheeze. After another minute, he gets to the door, reaches out and presses his hand against it. It takes a few tries for Danny to hear, but soon the door is opening and Drew’s able to walk into the warmth of Danny’s hallway. Peanut comes and gives him a sniff and he gives a customary lick back, because she understands that as a form of greeting, because it’s instinctual.

“Hi, cat,” Danny says, his usual hello. But then he bends down and picks Drew up, holds him close against his chest in a baby-hold. He peers at him carefully. “You’re not looking too well. I better get you warmed up.”

Up close like this, Drew can see that Danny himself looks a little worse for wear, the dark circles underneath his eyes darker than most days. His hair is limp like he hasn’t showered for a couple of days and he hasn’t shaved during that time either. Drew lifts an arm, glides the pad of his hand – no, his paw, it’s his paw isn’t it – and presses it against Danny’s chin.

Danny smiles, moves his head to dislodge the paw, but Drew puts it back. Danny’s skin is warm against the pad of his paw, and even though Danny’s holding him, they don’t feel close enough. 

Danny carries him into his living room, near the gas heater that has become Drew’s third favorite feature of Danny’s house. Danny sets him down and Drew doesn’t know what’s come over himself, but he’s sad about it, wishes Danny would hold him a little longer. He’s sure that if he does ever break the curse, he’s going to be living with the psychological effects for a long time. He doesn’t know how he’ll contend with the memory of the weird compulsions, urges and needs that are getting stronger every day. The trauma of having so much power and agency stripped away in a heartbeat for twenty-four days straight. The knowledge of cleaning himself with his own tongue, pissing and shitting on other people’s lawns, and coughing up remnants of his own fur. 

Gross.

He remembers the first time he had found himself here at Danny’s house in this predicament. How he could feel the transformation coming, miles away from his own apartment. How he’d been so thankful he recognized the neighborhood. How he’d only just jimmied the window open before the full bodied tingle started and his limbs shrank. It had been terrifying. 

It’s still scary, most days. But being with Danny makes it bearable. Danny has rescued him in so many tiny and huge ways and Drew doesn’t think he’ll ever have the words to thank him. 

After getting to a comfortable baseline of warmth, Drew joins Danny on the couch, wraps himself up into a loaf shape, tucked up close to Danny’s thigh. Danny starts scratching the top of Drew’s head; light, gentle touches that feel so good Drew can’t help but close his eyes. He realizes he’s purring within a minute, his whole body thick with the soothing vibrations that calm him when he’s anxious and display his contentment when he’s happy. When he had first purred he had been shocked at its loudness in relation to the new size of his body. He’s certain it’s ten times louder than any sound he could make in his human form. 

Drew dozes, listening to _The Bachelorette_ and Danny’s verbal reactions. Danny talks to himself an awful lot, or maybe he’s talking to Drew and Peanut. It makes Drew hollow inside, how lonely Danny can obviously sometimes be. How he has so much love to share with others, and no strong outlet to do so. Drew had been feeling the same way, before all this started, and he had thought, he had hoped, that they could be each other’s person. Listening-in to Danny’s conversation with Tim the other day had practically exploded Drew’s heart; with joy or sorrow, he just doesn’t know. Drew can’t risk Danny getting as close as they both want until the curse is lifted. He can’t bring that level of pain into Danny’s world. And yet, here he is again, nearly melded into Danny’s side, luxuriating in his touch.

*

It’s a procedure he’s perfected down to an art-form; sneak out of Danny’s room and go into the guest room to transform, take a pair of sweatpants, shirt and hoodie from the closet, open the back door silently, and vault over his back fence out of view of the security camera. He has a backpack sequestered on the other side with shoes and any other essentials. He has managed to sneak back three pairs of pants, five shirts and two hoodies into Danny’s laundry since the curse began and he’s so thankful Danny has so many extra clothes for costuming in his videos, not to mention spare merch. He would’ve been arrested on several occasions had he not been able to covertly borrow Danny’s clothes. 

The walk back to his car as dawn is breaking is kind of nice, weirdly. The sky today is pinks and oranges and the wind is more of a breeze. He has a different plan of action for today compared with the last week. He’s going to attempt to contact Mademoiselle Lafayette via TikTok again, this time to talk rather than track and trace. He’s going to apologize once more. To ask for more clues so as to work out how to undo the curse. All she’s given him so far is a title for a book and a keyword that made no sense to him whatsoever. She says that only he can lift her spell’s effects, that she understands he’s learned his lesson by now and would reverse things if she could. But Drew can tell every time they talk that she’s laughing at him, mostly because she’s like, seventeen, and not a very good actress. 

Drew makes it home and after he goes through his usual morning routine, he sets about making some new TikTok accounts and disguises. He reckons he’s more successful at obscuring his features than Danny ever is. He’s gotten through to Mademoiselle Lafayette on at least four occasions so far, successfully getting her to go live with him, even though she blocked his official account immediately after she cast the curse. He has no idea what her real name is, she’s clever despite being so young, so he thinks of her by her chosen moniker. At first he used to think of her as ‘that brat’ or even ‘that bitchy witch’, but wondering if the curse can be made worse by evil thoughts, he’s chosen to by kinder in his interior monologue. 

It takes a couple of hours to set everything up correctly, to lure Lafayette to talk to him personally. He feels like a grade-A creeper, hopes Chris Hansen isn’t around the corner wanting him to take a seat, but needs must. When he finally makes contact with Lafayette, he decides to play it cool. He’s played it furious, panicked and lamenting so far, so cool will make a nice change. 

“Bonjour, Mademoiselle,” Drew says when they’re finally video chatting. 

“Oh fuck, it’s you,” Lafayette says, rolling her eyes. Perhaps Drew’s disguise isn’t as strong as he thought. “Come on, dude, how many times do I have to tell you I literally can’t cancel the curse?”

“You don’t need to tell me that anymore, I promise. And I’m really very sorry for the insults I made toward you and your coven in my video. I just wanna have more clues about what _I’m_ supposed to do.”

“You haven’t worked it out?”

“Clearly not.”

“Wow, I thought it was so obvious. Okay, how’s this? ‘And when we touched she didn't shudder at my paw.’”

“Wait, I don’t have a pen or paper. Shit, fuck. Say it again?” Drew scrabbles about on his coffee table for an old receipt and pen to scribble with. He nods when he’s ready.

Lafayette repeats it, and then has the audacity to pop her chewing gum. 

“Is that it?” Drew asks. 

Lafayette flips him the bird and ends the call. Drew is $150 poorer, and none the wiser. Before, the clue referred to a first edition book containing a story with someone named Henry, now a clue is referring to a ‘she’. What the fuck?

Drew googles and finds out they’re Disney lyrics. Great. A person who has so much power they’re able to curse him to physically transmogrify into an entirely different mammal at 9 PM every night quotes the world’s most famous corporate family entertainment behemoth. And somehow, Drew’s foolish for not getting it. Idiotic. A simpleton! There are so many avenues he could take, so many different things to research. 

He spends a while, going through cast lists, songwriters, plot points, but honestly his brain doesn’t want to function anymore. It’s mid-afternoon by the time Drew finishes and even though he thinks he probably shouldn’t, he texts Danny if he’s okay with him coming over. He wants a distraction. No. He needs one. Like a moth to a flame, or a mosquito to a zapper, he finds himself wanting to gravitate to Danny’s light.

“You look rough,” Danny says upon opening his door and taking the bacon-wrapped jalapeno poppers Drew has brought as a gift.

“Gee. Thanks. So do you,” Drew replies.

Actually, Danny looks better than he did the day before, but Drew’s not going to admit that. He feels like pointing out minute physical changes from one week to the next might be some kind of low-key indicator that he spends a lot of his time thinking about Danny’s face.

“You know, life,” Danny says, shrugging. He takes one of the poppers and nearly goddamn inhales it, nodding and licking his lips like it’s a delicious spicy treat.

Drew collapses onto Danny’s couch, taking his own popper. “Same.” 

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Wanna whip my ass at a game of your choice?” Danny asks next, gesturing toward his consoles. 

“That depends. Will you be letting me win or will it be a fair fight?”

“Which do you prefer?”

“Good question. I guess it doesn’t matter.”

They decide on Mario Kart 8 Deluxe, because neither of them have had much experience with it. Both the Switch and the game have been given to Danny as a gift. There’s no good reason for Danny to lie about that, and knowing that he isn’t much of a gamer, Drew believes him. 

Perhaps that’s a mistake.

Danny is deceptively competitive. He talks a good game about being into things for the fun of it, or just because he wants to challenge himself, but Drew knows that on some things, Danny lies about as much as he tells the truth. Drew has been part of conversations where Danny’s let slip that he cares more about stats, tiers and winning than he usually lets on. When Danny’s focused on something, he tends to give it his all, not go by half-measures, and because he’s determined, he’s incredibly competent.

Danny wins the first race, then the second. Drew gets the third. 

“Are we keeping some kind of tally?” Drew asks. 

“In my mind, it was best out of three, but that didn’t seem fair after I creamed you twice in succession.”

“Creamed? I thought we were whipping?”

“Yeah, you’re right, you’re definitely more full of air than thoroughly mixed-up, how can I have gotten that so wrong?”

Drew laughs, bending forward and covering his mouth with his palm. He knocks into Danny’s shoulder like he would in his feline form, nudging him affectionately. Danny grins down at him, eyes alight with happiness. In that moment, Drew wants to get closer. Can imagine closing the distance between them and pressing a soft kiss against Danny’s lips. He wants to hold onto Danny tightly and show him how much he loves being in his company, to affirm the sense he knows they both have that they belong together. 

“Man, you have such BDE,” he says instead, shaking his head.

“What?” Danny squeaks, expression a picture of confusion.

“Big dork energy,” Drew quips, laughing again at Danny’s reaction. 

Danny shoves him into the couch’s armrest and they tussle, hands clasped tight against each other’s, mock-wrestling. Danny’s strong, but obviously not using all of his strength, and Drew is able to counteract every press with a push of his own. They both have their teeth bared, but they look more like grins than grimaces.

Suddenly Danny stops, looks to the side. “D’you hear that?”

“What?”

“The cat’s here. You’ll get to meet him!”

Danny relinquishes hold of Drew’s hands and kneels down, looking next to, behind and under the couch. He crawls around for a while, stands up again and tilts his head like he’s still trying to locate the source of the noise. 

“What did you hear?” Drew asks, spiraling from a sensation like a leaden ball sinking in his stomach.

“Purring,” Danny says, frowning. He goes on a cursory tour of his house, sits back down next to Drew. “I must be going bonkers, but fuck, it sounded so real.”

It is immediately apparent to Drew that the purring sound Danny heard was, indeed, real. And it came from him. He hasn’t purred as a human before, not without it being a conscious joke. It startles and worries him that somehow, someway, his body is capable of creating such a noise. 

“Nice distraction tactic,” Drew says, desperately wanting to change the subject. “We’re going best out of five for this round, three rounds total.”

“Okay, Dictator Drew, whatever you say.”

It’s dark out by the time Drew leaves. Danny has ended up whipping, creaming, beating him fair and square at Mario Kart. Drew can’t even complain about it, because it’s been a day of masterful play. Drew allows himself to reel Danny in for a hug before he leaves; a real hug, where they’re torso-to-torso. Danny gazes at him wide-eyed as they pull apart and Drew forces himself not to glance down at his lips. 

“Bye,” Drew says, quiet, like if he speaks too loud he’ll shatter the moment. 

“See you,” Danny replies. 

He opens his mouth again like he’s going to say something else, but closes it with a snap. He stands at his doorway and watches Drew drive away, waving until Drew can’t see him in the rear view mirror anymore. 

*

When Drew was younger, all he ever really wanted was to feel like he fit in. He had friends and he played sports and he was a gamer, but his best friends were his siblings and he always felt like he was insurmountably different from anyone else he wanted to get close to. He could never find the right words to say, or if he knew the right words he couldn’t get the cadence. He constantly felt awkward, misshapen, like a reject toy from a factory; made with all the same parts as everyone else, but configured entirely wrong.

As he grew older he learned that these thoughts were his brain lying to him – anxiety preying on a small and defenseless creature. 

But now, _now_ it is literally true. He can’t blame chemical imbalances and latent trauma. He is different and it’s a hindrance… just as frequently as it’s helpful.

Because the truth is, part of him is growing to love being a cat and that scares him more than anything else ever has. Part of him loves nothing more than curling up on Danny’s lap and being the subject of his attention. Part of him loves using slow blinks and gentle pats as his love language. He loves the freedom being a cat affords him, how powerful he sometimes feels, how truly spectacular it is to be able to leap high up into the air, to jump from such great heights, to sneak between tiny spaces that look impossible to traverse. He could get lost in being a cat and if he doesn’t do something quickly, he will. 

He calls his sister, just to talk. She might believe him, if he told her, she’s always had an uncanny knack of knowing when Drew’s telling the truth, even when he’s deliberately framing it as a lie. But when he’s chatting, he can’t think of a way to express it without sounding insane, so he doesn’t bother. 

The second she picks up, Kasey says, “Hi, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’re calling. You usually message.”

“Felt too lazy to type,” Drew says, which is not strictly a lie. “Too many words, not enough thumb-power.”

“I’m expecting the most detailed description of what it’s like living in Chicago that’s ever been heard now that you’ve said that.”

“It’s fucking freezing even though it’s only Fall and some days I think my dick’s gonna ice up and fall off. End of story.”

“Sounds like a blast. Remind me why you moved up there again?”

“I needed a change of scenery and I already have connections here. Plus, it’s less expensive than California and still relatively close to home. Also, I never said I _wanted_ to keep my dick. That might be a bonus perk.”

Kasey makes the kind of laughing sound that indicates she’s probably rolling her eyes. “So it’s going okay? You haven’t uploaded a video in three weeks. You’ve posted two stories and one picture on your Insta. You’re usually the most loquacious on the family chat and all you’ve messaged is ‘Happy Weekend’.”

“I’ve been better,” Drew admits. “I think I’m just finding my feet. Everything’s, like, nine times harder when you’re starting from scratch in a new place. I feel like I haven’t had enough energy to live a normal life and work at building video concepts at the same time.”

“Why don’t you collaborate with Danny? He’s one of your closer connections, isn’t he?”

“Yeah. I guess it never occurred to me to ask him? Plus, I haven’t had any ideas and I hate being a freeloader.”

“Do I have to do the whole ‘say your full name to sound admonishing’ thing? Because I will if I have to.”

“Please don’t.”

Kasey sighs. “Friendships don’t have to be exchanges, Drew. Sometimes, people help each other because it’s the right thing to do. “

“Sounds fake, but all right. Enough about me and my eventual mental breakdown, tell me how everything’s going with you.”

They chat for a while, Drew enjoying being able to attend to something other than his own worries for a while. Opening up to someone who knows him so well, even though he hasn’t told her everything, alleviates some of the burden on his shoulders. He thinks he should probably have taken this step before. 

“Thanks,” Drew says, after they’ve both said they’re going to let the other go. “I love you! Give hugs and kisses to mom, dad and Jake from me, okay?”

There’s a prolonged pause and then Kasey says, “If you want to come home, you can, you know? No one will think less of you.”

“I’ll be home for Thanksgiving,” Drew says, hoping it’s true. 

“Sure,” Kasey says, “I just mean if things aren’t working out the way you hoped…”

Drew rubs at his left eye, inhales deeply through his nose to center himself. “If I thought it’d help in this situation, I would, but I don’t think moving back will help me with my creative block.”

“Okay. Love you too. I’ll give everyone a great big slobbery kiss on the cheek from you.”

“As I intended. Talk soon.”

Drew ends the call, feeling comforted and yet uncomfortable all at the same time. What will his family think, if he disappears into the night one time and never comes back? Will they appear on a _Cold Case_ show? _Unsolved Mysteries_? Talking about how he’d been different the past month, had moved miles away from home only to fail at his ambitions? Feature some dickhead cop who insists he’s searched everywhere while doing the bare minimum?

Drew sets about researching again, looking up the name Henry and the word ‘grim’, then the name ‘Grimm’ like google suggests. He still can’t see anything that seems remotely connected with his curse, is led to ancestry.com and a fictional character. He watches _Beauty and the Beast_ , both the animated and live action movies, hoping it will make sense. None of it does. 

“Fuck this noise,” Drew whines, face-planting onto his bed and immediately falling into a deep stupor. 

*

It’s past 9 when he wakes up. He is small and alone. It’s harder to get to Danny’s place like this, and he seriously considers not going, but since the first and second visits he hasn’t been absent longer than one night. 

It’s honestly kind of spooky, walking the dark streets like this; a stark contrast with the morning. Every sound he hears in this form is louder by a factor of five, and the sights and scents he experiences can be overwhelming. At one point, he sees a small mouse dart among a hedgerow and it takes all of his willpower not to chase it down and capture it as a gift. It might take him too far from his route. 

He eventually arrives at Danny’s and scratches at the door. There’s every possibility that Danny’s already in bed, so he meows for good measure. Three minutes later, Danny’s letting him in. He’s in his pajamas and wearing his glasses already, his hair a riot of curls. He bends down and strokes Drew’s head and back, softly sweeping up the length of his tail.

“I’m going back to bed, cat,” Danny mumbles. “I made a plate of tuna for you earlier. It’s in the kitchen, on the floor.”

Drew goes to check it out, then realizes he isn’t actually hungry. He pads to Danny’s room instead, hopping up onto his bed and nestling into the curve of his arm and chest. Peanut glances at him for a moment and he makes a guttural sound to say hello. He closes his eyes and begins to purr. Danny scritches between his ears, against the fluffier fur of his belly, and it tickles, but it also feels amazing. When Danny leans down and presses his face into Drew’s tummy, he thinks he’s going to purr so loud he’ll wake the neighbors. Drew falls into a deep sleep like that, Danny curved around him like a parenthesis, his nose inhaling and exhaling against Drew with a metronomic rhythm. 

Drew stays like that all night, until well past dawn.

*

The first thing he’s aware of as he awakens is a contrast of temperatures. His abdomen is pleasantly warm as his extremities are chilled. Then he realizes there’s a puff of air tickling his lower belly. He opens his eyes and gazes down to see the crown of Danny’s head, resting atop his completely human body. 

Drew’s heart starts beating five miles a minute and he’s about to try and sneak out from underneath, but then Danny’s blinking awake, blearily looking up at Drew. Drew has the mortified realization he’s buck naked in Danny’s bed and he rolls to the side, stands behind Danny’s laundry hamper, trying to cover as much of his bareness as he can. 

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Drew says, reaching his hand forward like doing so can make his case. He’s covering his dick with his other hand, even though his lower half is hopefully obscured by the hamper.

Danny sits up on his bed, his eyebrows so high they’ve almost joined his hairline. “You’re the cat!”

“Okay, this is precisely what it looks like.”

“How?” Danny asks, voice as high as his brows.

“I’ve been cursed.”

“What?”

“It’s… it’s a long story. Can I borrow some clothes?”

Danny gazes at him, dumbfounded, then a second later seems to register Drew’s question. “Yeah, God, of course. Jesus.”

Drew takes what he can from the hamper, slides the clothes on while facing the wall. He’s in bright blue boxer briefs and a white tank-top, plus one of Danny’s Ooey Gooey Yummy Yummy Tasty Little Snack t-shirts, but can’t find any pants. Danny goes to his dresser, brings out a pair of black sweatpants and hands them over without Drew having to ask. 

Clothed as he is, Drew still doesn’t step out from behind the laundry hamper at first, staring down at the floor. 

“I’ll go make breakfast,” Danny announces. 

In imagining this happening, Drew had figured he’d have to prove himself to Danny, that he’d have to talk ad nauseam and provide evidence, but Danny’s accepted this at face value and Drew doesn’t know where to put himself. He follows Danny to the kitchen, gets side plates and bowls ready as Danny puts bread in his toaster, pulls cereal, peanut butter and jelly from the pantry. 

“So I was cursed almost a month ago,” Drew starts. “Remember the first video I filmed here?”

“The TikTok coven, yeah, that was some wild – oh shit. Really? They’re actual, bona fide witches?”

“Looks like.”

Danny bites his lip, leans against the counter. “Does anyone else know?”

“That they have supernatural powers? I have no idea.”

Danny shakes his head. “No, that you get a little furry after dark.”

“No, just you.”

Danny lets out a long, slow breath. He’s leaning against his counter, gazing at Drew with a slight frown, his eyes full of some unnamed emotion. 

“Are you pitying me right now?” Drew asks, snatching the toast as it pops and putting it on the plates, ready to add toppings. “Because I’m a big strong man and occasionally a small ferocious beast with claws and fangs. I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.”

“You’ve been living with this for weeks all by yourself, of course I feel bad for you, dude,” Danny says with a roll of his eyes. He loosely wraps his arms around Drew’s middle, a hold that’s easily broken if Drew wants. But he doesn’t. He leans into it and hugs back. “When does the curse end?” Danny asks into Drew’s shoulder.

“When I find a way to break it,” Drew says, finally pulling away and pouring himself a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch. “If I don’t work it out by November 1st, I’m a cat for life.”

Danny states the obvious. “That’s two days away. That’s insane.”

As they eat breakfast, Drew tells Danny all about Mademoiselle Lafayette and the clues she’s given. He goes through how he’s enlisted Jarvis to track her, but how every lead was a dead-end. He explains that when Danny found him in a dumpster, it was because he’d been searching it for more information on Lafayette when he transformed. Danny listens, rapt, interjecting occasionally. 

“I knew there was something about you as a cat,” Danny says, wondering. “Couldn’t put my finger on it.”

“I think you’ll find you put your fingers on me many times. Do you have any more questions?” Drew asks. 

“Thousands but I’ll only ask the most pressing. Can you lick your own dick?”

Drew groans, covers his face with his hands. “Danny? _Why?_ ”

“I can't help it. I'm curious.”

“You know what they say about curiosity.”

“Maybe it'd be a little death.”

“I am not even going to dignify this with an answer. I'm shocked and appalled. I might even say horrified.”

But actually, he’s relieved. Danny’s smiling at him with a mischievous glint, making it clear that this was his intention all along, even if he is genuinely curious. And why wouldn’t he be? Drew is too ashamed to admit the question had never even occurred to him, that he’s had other concerns. 

Danny knowing the truth of it all is such a relief, Drew feels like he’s on a cloud all day. He hasn’t felt this uncomplicated for a long time. Danny goes over the clues with Drew, attempts his own research. They spend the day together, traveling where the IP addresses Jarvis tracked originate. 

“I bet there’s some kind of Grimmauld place shit going on here,” Danny says, spinning around and peering intently. 

“What’s that?” 

“Like a cloaking spell, something that makes her house not appear to us because we’re not magical. It’s a Harry Potter reference.”

“Sorry, I don’t speak nerd.”

“Because speaking geek is so much better,” Danny retorts. 

He walks around, retracing Drew’s previous steps almost exactly, although he can’t know that. The seriousness in his expression is endearing. Danny’s good at masking his more introspective, thoughtful side behind glib jokes and a cheerful demeanor, but like this there’s a whole other side to him. Drew’s helping again, naturally, but he’s also half-enthralled by watching Danny on a mission. The competence and thoroughness he displays is intoxicating. 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t bring about a radical solution to the mystery. Mademoiselle Lafayette’s whereabouts are as hidden as they always were. And perhaps it doesn’t matter anyway. She’s repeatedly said she can’t simply reverse the curse. He doesn’t really know why he wants to see her in person, except to make it even more apparent that he’s not a terrible person who deserves such a punishment. 

After an hour and a half they give up, grab lunch from Chipotle, and take it back to Danny’s house. Drew serves the food, is waiting on Danny to take a bite before he starts, when Danny puts a hand on his arm. 

“You keep doing things for me,” Danny says, “Bringing me gifts, making me food, giving me company.”

“You’ve taken care of me when I couldn’t take care of myself,” Drew responds, shrugging a shoulder like it’s no big deal. 

“The cockroaches. That was you, wasn’t it?” Danny asks with a laugh in his voice.

“Sometimes the cat behaviors take over. I was trying to help you prepare for guests and whatnot.”

“That’s the weirdest and sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” 

“Vice versa for when you bathed me.”

“Jesus, a whole lot of the past month is now hitting in a totally different light.”

They eat, rewatching their favorite episodes of the first season of _The Mandalorian_ , because they both need a break and they want to cram it in before the new season starts. They’ve argued over plot points before and they rehash old arguments and viewpoints as the show plays out, agreeing to disagree only because they’ll annoy each other for hours if they don’t. 

Night falls and Drew looks out the window, is about to ask Danny to drive him home. 

“You might as well stay here,” Danny reasons, following Drew’s gaze. “Plus, I kinda wanna see what happens when you transform.”

“There’s a blinding light so you can’t see anything,” Drew says. “I tried it in front of a mirror.”

“Stay anyway.”

“You don’t think it’ll be too weird?”

“Drew, with respect, there’s no modifier that accurately conveys how absolutely batshit this situation is. But since we’ve already been doing this for, like, four weeks, I think I can handle the truly bizarre and frankly otherworldly.”

Drew stays. He convinces Danny to let him change in the guest room rather than on display, and accepts Danny’s petting eagerly, even though they’re now both fully aware of what’s happening. Danny is tentative with his touches, but when Drew purrs, he becomes more confident, stroking him like he has every other night. 

“Not gonna lie, I’ve been tempted to do this to you in your human form too, if only to fix your preternaturally fucked up hair,” Danny murmurs. 

Drew digs his claws into Danny’s thigh.

*

The next day, Danny devises a plan to get another clue from Lafayette. It involves his Zayden Longzan wig and his Ned Flames goatee, as well as an old pair of wire-rimmed glasses, and he looks absolutely fucking feral. Drew hates it with every fiber of his being, but he can’t deny that Danny doesn’t look like himself. 

When they get Lafayette live once more, it’s almost evening. Danny explains the issues they’ve been having with her clues as Drew pops up behind him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lafayette asks, dead-pan. 

“Yeah, this is very obviously a comedy livestream, in aid of fundraising against forced feline syndrome,” Danny snarks back, his eyebrow raised. “We need more information.”

Lafayette rocks back in her chair, slaps a hand into her forehead. “If you don’t get it after this, I don’t know, maybe you were destined to meow as well as moan.”

She sends a link to a png. As Danny clicks the link, she disconnects. 

It’s a picture of Tinker Bell with devil’s horns and a devilish tail. There’s an arrow pointing at her ass. 

“She’s saying I’m a demonic asshole?” Drew questions, hands balling up into fists. “Why I oughta –.” He affects an accent, shakes his fists, plays it up like an old-time sitcom star. He has to or he’s seriously going to cry. 

Danny pouts, his lips pursed in concentration. “What were the other clues again?”

“Iron Henry, and the word ‘grim’, lyrics from Disney’s _Beauty and the Beast_ ’s ‘Something There’.”

“Wait, did you say _Iron_ Henry?”

Drew shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah, why’s that relevant?” 

Danny does a quick search and shows Drew that _Iron Henry_ is an old story written down by the Grimm brothers. It’s also known as _The Frog Prince_.”

“It’s fairy tale,” Danny says, sounding a cross between exasperated and triumphant. “The latest picture? That little witch told you the answer the very first time.”

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s true love’s kiss, Drew. _The Frog Prince_? He asks a girl to kiss him in order to break the curse of being frogified. _Beauty and the Beast_? They kiss as, like, a consummation of Belle’s declaration of love. It’s been added into _Sleeping Beauty_ , _Snow White_ , fuck, even _WALL-E_. It’s a trope as old as time. You have ninety-nine problems and the witch is one, but true love’s kiss will solve them all.”

Drew collapses onto the couch, his legs giving way beneath him. No words can express how he’s feeling. He’s such a tangle of emotions, he doesn’t know how to process them. 

“No one ever said the true love had to be romantic,” Danny says, mistaking Drew’s reaction as defeat. He sits next to Drew, clutches his knee. “It is in the examples I gave, sure, but there are others. It’s not a kiss per se, but _Frozen_ features familial sacrifice. It’s what, a two and a half hour flight back to Florida?”

“Danny…” Drew starts, but Danny steamrollers over him. 

“And hey, I’d be willing to kiss you, in the name of curse-breaking. The love between friends is perfectly valid too. Or, at least, it _should_ be.”

Drew gazes at Danny. He’s not surprised, not really, but the casual way Danny’s said it flummoxes him. He’s amazed at Danny’s bravery, encouraged by his optimism, in awe of his confidence.

“You remember I coughed up a furball last night, right?”

“I hadn't but now you've kindly reminded me.”

“Just wanna make sure you understand what you're putting yourself in for.”

“I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't wanna do it.”

“You _wanna_ do it? This isn't a matter of misplaced friendly obligation?”

“Depends. Are you more or less likely to shut up and let me kiss you? Like I said, it doesn’t have to mean anything to you except a gesture of friendly love between guys being dudes.”

“Okay,” Drew says. “Kiss away. But before you do that, for the love of God, get rid of your hideous disguise.”

Danny takes off his wig and throws it over the back of the couch. The goatee takes more time, stuck fast as it is to his skin. He goes to the bathroom to dissolve the glue, comes back with pink-rubbed skin.

“You wanna do this standing up or sitting down?” Danny asks, a hint of hesitation finally creeping into his tone. 

“Why not do it both ways, hedge our bets.”

Danny nods. “We should try lying down, too, just in case.”

Drew stands, his knees still slightly weak from the possibility that this could be it, the end of what has been a month of confusion, fear, the unknown, and the inability to scratch himself precisely where he wants. 

“If this doesn’t work, if our friendship isn’t enough, doesn’t comply with the true love clause, I want you to know that I won’t leave you alone,” Danny says. “I’ll do everything in my power to find a way to bring you back to your humanity.”

“Danny, I decided to spend what I thought were my last hours as a human with you. If this doesn’t work, it’s because the theory’s wrong, not because there isn’t true love involved.”

Danny stares for a moment, his Adam’s apple rising and falling. He smiles the softest, sweetest smile that Drew’s ever seen, full of naked affection. He gently places one hand on Drew’s shoulder, the other against his waist, and leans in close to press a warm kiss against Drew’s lips. Drew tightens his hold, kisses back like the world has stopped and all they have is this moment, right here. His heart’s beating so loud he’s sure they can both hear it and his skin tingles. They kiss in perfect sync, neither of them trying to take over, but neither of them shying away either. Danny kisses with a tentative kind of intensity that Drew wants to experience as many times as physically possible, searching and exploratory. 

Drew still has his eyes closed for a beat after Danny finally pulls away. 

“Did you feel anything?” Danny asks, voice a little rough.

Drew smiles, so smitten he’s sure it’s etched onto every line of his face. “Uhh, yeah. Just everything. But, like we said, we should continue the experiment. To be thorough. In the name of magical science.”

Danny huffs out a laugh, falls onto the couch and drags Drew down with him, kissing him again with even more vigor. 

*

They’re lying on the bed together by the time it’s about to turn 9 PM, curled around each other like headphone wires. They’ve ignored every single trick-or-treater who knocked on Danny’s door, and for his part, Drew has no regrets on that account. Danny’s lips are red and kiss-swollen and Drew’s feel tender. If this hasn’t worked, at least he’s going out with a bang and a whimper.

“What’s your favorite thing about being a cat?” Danny asks. “Don’t think about it, just say the first thing that pops into your mind.”

“Being able to communicate emotions without words.”

“You can do that as a human too.”

“I feel like glaring as my human self isn’t as effective as it is in my feline form.”

“Actually, you’re not wrong.”

“What’s your favorite thing about me when I’m a cat?” Drew asks, because he’s been wondering for a month.

“The way you lap up even a hint of positive attention and will let me bury my face in the fluffy fur on your belly.”

“That doesn’t sound too different from when I’m human.”

By half past 9, it’s obvious that Drew’s not going to transform that hour. But just in case he switches at midnight, they stay up watching videos on Danny’s phone. Danny brushes his fingers through Drew’s hair, scratching at the back of his neck and back up again. Drew presses kisses against his jaw. 

Midnight comes and goes, and still, Drew remains in his human body. They kiss again, for good luck and a good time, and decide to go to sleep. 

“I kind of miss the tail,” Danny says, faux-forlorn. “I mean, I love you and all, and I’m super happy you can talk back when I chat, but it just gave you that little bit extra. A spark of pizzazz, you know?”

“You’re such an asshole and I love you more than anything.”

He’s been sleeping next to Danny for weeks, but doing so like this is better than he could have imagined. Their combined body heat makes the bed toasty warm. The sound of Danny’s breathing is a quiet lull that eases his usually tumultuous mind. And being able to hold Danny in his arms settles something in Drew that he never even realized was in disarray.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I will take questions. No, I don't have any regrets.


End file.
